


Where He Belongs

by Damnbrose



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Worship, Cowgirl Position, Feelings, Fluff, Implied and/or Light Subspace, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Previously Established Tentative Relationship, RAW 8/13/18, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Rimming, mild size kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-28 15:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15709701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damnbrose/pseuds/Damnbrose
Summary: They had only been truly reunited for about three months before Dean's terrifying tricep injury had torn them apart once again.Nine months. It's been nine whole months since Seth has seen Dean in the flesh. His booking schedule left him no room to see Dean, to touch him, to hear his voice through anything that wasn't a phone or a computer screen.But now he's back, and dear God is he better than ever.





	Where He Belongs

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so, August 13th RAW pretty much killed me and this idea spawned so quickly and practically wrote itself so I just needed to get it out of my system because I am legitimately so happy and overwhelmed that Dean is back. So I hope you enjoy the smutty feelings!
> 
> Also I didn't really beta this in my excitement to get it out, so if the pacing is a little weird in spots and if there's anything that looks out of whack, let me know lol

 

      When Seth finally hears that voice again, his heart nearly bursts out of his chest. Backstage, Seth turns towards that voice and it's almost like it isn't real.

      Nine months. It's been nine whole months since Seth has seen Dean in the flesh. His booking schedule left him no room to see Dean, to touch him, to hear his voice through anything that wasn't a phone or a computer screen.

      Dean looks the same and completely different all at once, and it almost takes Seth's breath away.

      "Hey Brotha," Dean says, an easy smile on his face, and it's exactly the perfect thing to say.

      Seth can't contain himself, and doesn't even--can't really--hesitate before going in for a hug. He doesn’t care that Dean still has a backpack slung over his shoulder and a duffle bag clutched in the other. It's been too long, too fucking long.

      Dean laughs, an easy sound, and hearing it in person again makes Seth just want to press into Dean's shoulder and never fucking leave. The taller man slaps at his back with his one free hand, still chuckling at Seth’s enthusiasm. “C’mon killer, wait for the waterworks until after I set my shit down.” He says, and hearing that low rasp right against his ear sends shivers down the left side of Seth’s body. “Can’t let Ziggler know I’m here too early, yeah?”

      Seth finally pulls away, and he bumps a fist against Dean’s shoulder, “Not crying you ass, just missed you,” he replies with a smile of his own.

      Dean’s still smiling, and it’s still easy, but there’s an edge of excitement just crawling into the edges of it. “Feels good to be back, man.”

      Seth gestures with his head behind him. “C’mon, snagged a room, let’s go.”

 

      In the dressing room, Dean slings his stuff into the corner, devil-may-care as always, and seeing those familiar motions once more makes Seth’s heart hurt just a little bit with how happy he is.

      He watches, already in his ring gear since he was too excited to even wait for that, as Dean reaches for the baseball cap atop his head and carefully slips it off and sets it on top of his backpack. Seth blinks and what he says just comes out. “Your hair.”

      Dean looks up, and runs a hand over the shorn locks, shorter than it’s been in a long, long time. He chuckles under his breath and looks back down at his duffel, reaching for the zipper and tugging it open, speaking but adamantly not looking at Seth as he does. “Not all of us can pull off the long, flowing locks like you and Ro can,” he jokes.

      “When did that happen?” Seth finds himself asking, because he spoke with Ambrose on Skype not more than a few days ago, and the man’s hair didn’t look like this.

      “Yesterday,” Dean replies quickly, still rummaging for something in his bag. “Figured, hey, might as well give up the ghost now when I’m coming back. New look and all.” He half shrugs, like it’s no big deal, and Seth suddenly realizes.

      Dean’s embarrassed.

      “It looks good!” Seth blurts out, and Dean stops, finally looks at Seth, and there’s a frown on his face.

      “Don’t lie just because you don’t wanna hurt my feelings,” he says, then reaches to yank his sweatshirt up and over his head probably a little more forcefully than he needs to.

      “I’m not lying I was just--” and Seth cuts himself off as Dean throws his sweatshirt on top of his hat and backpack. He blinks, and is still speechless.

      He had kind of felt it when they briefly hugged, but seeing it now, kind of takes Seth’s breath away and makes all the moisture in his mouth suddenly evaporate.

      Dean looks _good_.

      He’s got a new shirt on, a tank top as always, but the cut of the sleeves shows off more of Dean’s skin than it usually would. But that’s nothing compared to the sheer breadth and mass of his chest and _shoulders._

      God, it looks like he’s done nothing but lift weights and down protein shakes since the moment he got injured. Seth knows that’s not exactly the case, but Dean was very serious about recovering from his injury, even moving all the way to Alabama to be closer to the specialist and to the rehab center, and it shows.

      “You were just what?” Dean asks, turning to fully look at Seth and _fuck_. With his still tiny waist it makes his shoulders and chest and arms look all the bigger, and Seth can’t stop looking, even though he really probably definitely should.

      It takes Seth a second, to pull himself out of staring, and when he meets Dean’s eyes again, there’s something in those still droopy blues that speaks of intrigument. It strikes Seth now that with his hair so short, there’s no hiding the bright blue of Dean’s eyes, and they look all the more piercing because of it.

      “What is it?” Dean asks slowly, looking over Seth with a quick glance and a flush finds itself spreading across Seth’s cheeks because _really_?

      He clears his throat and finally looks away. “You look good, man, that’s all I was saying. Everything looks….good.”

      Real smooth there, Rollins. Real smooth.

      Dean hesitates, stares Rollins down with those unhidden blue eyes, then runs his hand over his head, which Seth figures is becoming a little bit of a subconscious tick, and says, “Thanks,” before going back to his stuff.

      He must know how good he looks, he _has_ to.

      Seth pulls out of that train of thought though because he’s going to be stuck there all night at this rate. “So, you wanna talk strategy?”

      “Haven’t been back with ya for more than a half an hour and ya already wanna talk strategy,” Dean says, but it’s fond the way he says it, a light tease in that rasp of his.

      Seth chuckles. “More like, ‘planned out humiliation of one Dolph Ziggler and Drew McIntyre,’ but it sounds more official when you call it strategy,” he jokes, leaning up against the the wall near the door.

      Dean huffs out a breath, shaking his head as he rifles through his bag. Seth can’t help but stare at the other man’s profile, taking everything in from head to toe. Those _jeans_ . Those almost look like jeans that _he_ would wear they’re so tight.

      There’s no _way_ that Dean doesn’t know how damn good he looks.

      “So what were you thinking?” Dean asks, derailing Seth’s thoughts and putting them back on track for the night at hand. Right, the contract signing. Seth kicks off the wall and starts to pace a little bit, as he always does when he’s talking about his thoughts.

      “So Dolph goes out with McIntyre, does the whole signing of the match clause and everything, blah blah blah” Seth says, gesturing vaguely as he talks. “Then when he’s all confident, I come out and kind of taunt him a little.”

      “He deserves it,” Dean mutters, rolling his shoulders a little.

      “Apologize for being late and talk about how I was working through some travel arrangements,” Seth continues, “Just not…. _my_ travel arrangements.”

      Dean snorts. “Crowd’ll love that.”

      Seth smiles. “Hell yeah, then as you come out we can watch the crowd, Ziggler and McIntyre collectively shit themselves, it’ll be great.”

      Dean shrugs, then stands up straight. “Damn, forgot my tape.”

      Seth smiles. “You been away from the ring so long you’re getting forgetful.”

      Dean rolls his eyes, ignores the jab but still smirks. “You ready, Brotha?” He asks, casually offering his fist.

      Seth is gripped with the sudden urge to kiss Dean. It strikes him still for just a moment, before he shakes it off as well as he can, his smile widening to hide the revelation. He bumps the fist back. “Let’s do it.”

 

***

      The moment that Dean's music hits and he steps out on that stage, Seth can hardly keep his eyes off of him. From his hair to the tighter fitting of his clothes, and the predatory look in his eyes and in his movements, here, in his element, he looks absolutely breathtaking.

      "Return to Society" his shirt says, and it's the absolute truth.

      Seth can't help but smile because Dean is back, back on RAW, back in front of the crowd, back doing what he loves, what he was born to do. And--most importantly in the more selfish part of himself--back with Seth.

      Dean practically struts back and forth as he stares down Ziggler and McIntyre, like a caged animal just waiting to be released, all smooth movements of muscle and power. Seth can feel his own blood rushing, roaring in his ears. He can feel the intensity of Dean's very being, vibrating with energy at his side. It practically drowns out everything: Ziggler and McIntyre shouting at them, the announcers quickly relaying what the hell is happening, even the crowd losing their minds so rightfully over the return of the man who belongs right where he is.

      Then, Dean slowly turns his head, and his eyes meet Seth's, and God, he doesn't even have to speak and it's like Seth can read his damn mind. A slight nod, Seth slapping Dean in the chest because he just can't help it, and they spring into action. They stomp down the ramp like they own the place because they fucking _do_ , taking to a run as they approach the ring.

      Seth is smiling so hard it practically hurts.

      Everything after they roll into the ring happens so fast it's almost a blur. Fists fly between all four of them, Dean sending Ziggler up and over the top rope before launching himself at McIntyre as the Scotsman beats on Seth at the opposite turnbuckle.

      Seth almost panics as McIntyre turns and wrestles Dean away, pushing him down and out of reach. Seth moves without thinking, taking McIntyre's distraction and using it against him, planting a super kick right into the taller man's jaw.

      Like clockwork, Dean catches the stumbling man, and with a quick movement, sends him right into Dirty Deeds, and right into the mat.

      Seth can't help it, he jumps up and down, unable to contain the energy coursing through him. The crowd is still losing their collective minds, and Seth doesn't blame them, feeling about halfway there himself. He lets out a gleeful shout from his very core as Dean stalks the ring, ready to take on anyone who dares to step on that fucking canvas.

      After a few moments, he swipes up the match contract and stares at Seth, something unreadable in his eyes before he slaps it right into Seth's chest, the unspoken, 'Fucking sign it,' perfectly clear.

      Seth does, a smile still stretching across his face, and it _is_ starting to hurt now, but he can't stop it, doesn't even want to because it still feels so fucking good to be here, in the ring, with Dean, victorious.

      Then Seth tosses the contract away, out of the ring like a fucking period on the statement he and Dean just made. Seth reaches for him, slaps his chest and back a few times because it almost doesn't feel real, what's happening. He needs the touch for just a few seconds to solidify what his heart desperately wanted.

      Dean jumps up on a turnbuckle, facing the crowd, absorbing their cheers and their adulations, as he should. When he jumps back down again, Seth can't help but stick his fist out, staring at Dean, wanting that connection, that symbol of trust and brotherhood that they had forged all those years ago. He needs to rekindle it, and this reunion feels more real than it had last July.

      There's no hesitation when Dean aims his fist and thrusts it against Seth's, and Seth didn't think the swell in his heart could get any larger.

      Dean is where he belongs.

 

      That urge, the one that caught him before they went out on stage grips him again, the sudden and deep rooted urge to take Dean by the face and just kiss him. God he would do it in the middle of the ring too were it not for the thousands of eyes on them from the crowd and the millions watching at home. It would be so fitting, Seth thinks, for it to happen here. But he can't--even outside the circumstances of their job and the repercussions that might form because of it--because while they've reunited again, Seth isn't entirely sure of the status of....whatever they would call themselves now.

      Before Dean's injury, it felt like there were inklings of feelings leaking out from both of them once again. Honestly, after Seth's intensive soul searching during the healing of his own injury, he realized that his feelings for Dean never really changed, that he still cared for Dean like his own blood, still loved him deeply and with everything that he had.

      But Dean? Well...he never would have blamed the man for not wanting anything to do with him again in the first place, so to even be here, in the ring and wrestling together as a team again, is something that Seth shouldn't take for granted.

      But God their chemistry is still so explosive, just as much if not more than it's always been, and it buzzes like electricity underneath his skin.

 

      The end of RAW is always the same. Shower and change if you want to, but you better be fucking done before everything is taken down or you’re shit out of luck and are gonna get your ass left. Both Seth and Dean agree that they didn’t do much fighting in the long run, so both of them can wait to take a shower if they want to until they get to the hotel.

      Which reminds Seth. "You booked with everyone else? Same hotel?" He asks, hoisting his new shirt over his head and tossing it into his rolling suitcase. He’ll sort the thing out later.

      “Think so. The big one?”

      Seth snorts. “Yeah, the big one.”

 

      As they finish changing, they roll all of their stuff out backstage and to their parking garage, thanking people who offer them congratulations. Dean doesn’t stop to talk much to people who welcome him back, and it doesn’t seem like they really fault him. Even with how little they did with the show, Dean’s been travelling a lot lately, and everyone must understand how tired he is.

      They stop, waiting for a car to pass. “You gotta ride?” Dean asks suddenly.

      "Rode with Ro," Seth says, watching Dean shove as much of his hands into those tight, tight pants as he can.

      “Wanna come with me? We can hang out for a bit, catch up?” Dean asks, and if Seth didn’t know better, it would sound like a casual offer, but Dean avoids his glance, trying to look casual and doing a terrible job at it, and Seth smiles.

      “Sure, sounds good.” He replies.

      "You sure?" Dean asks, probably not wanting to be a burden even though it’s the last fucking thing that he is to Seth right now.

      "Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," Seth shrugs, throwing one of his own easy smiles Dean’s way. “Lemme text Ro and tell him.”

      Dean doesn’t reply as Seth pulls out his phone.

_To Ro:_

_Gonna ride with Dean, hang out for a bit._

 

      As Seth trails after Dean on the way to his rental, he gets a response.

_From Ro:_

_dont have too much fun_

 

      Seth grips at his phone. He knows its an innocent send off, but he can’t help but think of the possibility of something, _more_ with Dean. He shakes it off as much as he can as they approach the rental, tossing their stuff in quickly so they can get the hell out of there.

 

      The ride to the hotel is thankfully not that long, about twenty minutes away from the arena. They have enough time between shows to spend the night then head out in the morning. They don’t talk much as they drive, just pleasantries and Dean asking Seth about recent house shows and stuff he hasn’t seen, hasn’t been there for. As Seth regales him with the touring schedule, Dean hums along gently to the radio, listening to Seth and offering his own interjections during particularly interesting points in Seth’s stories. Thankfully, there aren’t too many fans trying to hang around outside as they pull up to the hotel, and they check into their rooms quite easily.

      “So my room or yours?” Dean asks, waggling his eyebrows Seth’s way, and honestly it’s such a bad line that Seth can’t help but groan and roll his eyes.

      “My room, so shut up.”

      Dean just laughs.

      After traipsing all of their shit up a few floors, they end at Seth’s room. It’s a single with a king, and while it’s probably bigger than most hotel rooms, it’s not too extravagant. At least it’s better than the dingy hotels he used in the Indies. He doesn’t even want to think about how many mysterious stains he’s had to sleep on before.

      He sits on the bed, sighing softly as he stretches his hands over his head. “Home sweet home,” he jokes. “At least for the night. Glad they got us kings,” he adds, patting the bed.

      Dean takes his hat off, sets it with the rest of his stuff, and opens the mini cooler he’s traveled with ever since Seth’s known him. Hell, it’s probably the same damn one. Seth watches him pull a beer bottle out of it and he laughs at the Dean-ness of it all, drawing said man’s attention.

      “Want one?” Dean asks, out of courtesy, even though he undoubtedly knows Seth’s answer.

      “No thanks,” Seth says predictably, leaning over to start untying his shoes so he can finally pull them off.

      “Suit yourself,” Dean replies, then heads over to the bed, sitting down next to Seth on the edge, easily kicking off his own shoes with just his feet. He reaches for the remote and clicks on the television, and it’s on a probable rerun of a baseball game. He doesn’t click the volume up as he watches, opening the beer with the bottle opener attached to his key chain.

      Seth rolls his eyes goodnaturedly as he sits up, glancing at Dean with a half smile. Dean takes a sip, and Seth’s smile gets a little softer as he looks at him. Fuck, it’s so good to be with him again. The skype calls while Dean was in rehab were nice, but it’s nothing compared to the actual physical feeling of Dean being next to him, listening to him talk and just….being there.

      That urge boils up in him again as he looks. Dean probably can tell that he’s watching him and not the screen, but Seth doesn’t care. Nine months. Nine months since Seth has been with Dean, and he’s going to take advantage of the time he has now. He wants to kiss him, wants to see if those little inklings between them before Dean’s injury weren’t just his imagination.

      So he breaks the silence.

      “Can I….” Seth licks at his own lips for a second, running his top teeth over the bottom one just for a second. “Can I kiss you?”

      Dean doesn’t look all that surprised, in fact, simply slowly turns his head so he can look Seth in the eye. Seth half expects him to bring the bottle up to his lips to take a lazy drink that’s how calm he looks about it. “So that’s what it is.”

      Seth blinks at the unexpected response. “I’m sorry?”

      Dean shrugs with one arm. “You’ve had this look in your eye ever since we met backstage,” he explains, gesturing vaguely with the beer. “Couldn’t really place it. But now that you’ve said that it’s obvious.”

      Seth swallows and glances away. “Yeah?”

      Out of the corner of his eye, Seth sees Dean shift. “You used to look at me like that a lot way back when...you know….before…”

      Seth swallows rougher now. Before his betrayal. It stills stings, even though it’s been over a year since Seth apologized and started trying to make it up to the man sitting next to him. He’s the luckiest man in the world that Dean decided that he’s worth putting his trust in again, that he’s worth his time again.

      “Not used to you asking, though,” Dean observes softly, taking a sip of his drink.

      Seth remembers that too, that in his own excitement and need he would sometimes just lean over and plant one right on Dean’s lips or pull Dean’s face in and practically try to suck his tongue right out of his mouth. Dean never seemed to mind though, never complained or told him he didn’t like it, so it must be odd for him to be asking now.

      But he had to ask, because things--no matter how much he wishes it wasn’t true--are different now. So many things have happened between then and now, and it’s because of those things that Seth isn’t entirely sure where they stand when it comes to their relationship. Dean isn’t angry, hasn’t gotten offended, shouted, ‘How dare you!’ and stormed out of the building yet, so that’s at least a better sign.

      “A lot of stuff happened between then and now,” Seth admits. “And honestly there was a point where I _knew_ that I was the last thing on this Earth that you ever wanted to even _see_. There’s no excuse for what I did. I became the lowest of the low asshole, and I honestly don’t or wouldn’t blame you still if you don’t want anything to do with me.” He swallows. “I’ve spent so much time in my career taking, I thought I’d ask permission for once, give you a chance to tell me what _you_ want.”

      Dean is silent for a moment, is jaw flexing and working as he mulls over what Seth has said. “There _was_ a time where you were the last fucking person on this Earth that I even wanted to think about.” He agrees. “It’s just….got me so damn angry.”

      “I don’t blame you,” Seth replies softly.

      “Angry for a lot of reasons,” Dean continues. “I think the thing that made me the most angry and confused and hurt, was how much you obviously started to hate it over time.” He shrugs, like it’s nothing, even though Seth knows that it’s the furthest thing from the truth. “Sure, you talked a big game, threw out the most scathing promos and sneers like you were fucking born to do it, stomped my fucking face into the canvas more than once, but I could see it in your eyes how much it was starting to eat away at you.”

      “It really did….” Seth murmurs, not trusting his voice to be any louder.

      “And that’s why I got so angry sometimes, furious. It was so obvious to me how much you hated it and how short sighted you were. Yet you stayed, you persevered at being a Grade A asshole for some fucking reason that honestly I _still_ don’t understand.” Dean punctuates his little rant with a swig of his drink, and after he swallows, he continues. “I just wanted to knock some damn _sense_ into you. Make yourself see and believe how wrong you were.”

      “I was,” Seth agrees, because he can’t argue over this. He was wrong, he was _so_ damn wrong. It’s a revelation though, something that kindles a little fire in his heart that Dean could see how miserable he was, even though it was Seth’s own doing that caused the misery for both of them.

      “Then it all came to a head after your knee got all fucked up,” Dean says. “You went away, and it apparently was exactly what you fucking needed, being out from under the thumb of Triple H, because you came back and you were ready to kick his fucking ass.” He says that part with what sounds like a little mix of disbelief and pride. “It was like seeing the old you again, but just like you said. You rebuilt, redesigned, and reclaimed yourself from them.”

      Seth nods, probably a little too enthusiastic for the moment, but he can’t help himself because _yes_ , Dean _understood!_  “I had a lot of time to think when I was injured,” he admits. “And it made me realize what a fucking idiot I had been.” He swallows, and his eyes fall on the hand that’s resting on Dean’s knee, and he has the sudden urge to reach for it. He clenches his fists though, and resists. This can’t be the situation where he takes for himself. There is a time and a place for that, but right now, here, this isn’t it. “I realized what was important, and that I needed to try to get it back.”

      Dean sets the beer bottle down on the floor. It must be empty. “The symbolism of your Wrestlemania gear wasn’t lost on me or Ro,” he says, and he taps one of his thumbs against his kneecap.

      Seth shrugs, his face tinting a little pink. “It was something I felt I could say without words.”

      Silence stretches between them, and it hasn’t passed Seth’s notice that Dean hasn’t answered his question. He tries not to sag and sigh, because really, he should be glad that Dean is even trusting him this much, letting him back into his life and Dean having his back in the ring once again should be more than enough and--

      A hand touches his knee, and Seth’s head jerks up, wide eyes looking at the owner of said hand. “Stop.”

      Before Seth can ask, ‘Stop what?’ Dean clarifies.

      “Stop thinking.”

      Seth gives a wry smirk with a half shrug. “Kinda hard to sometimes.”

      Dean’s brows raise just a little bit. “S’why I’m telling you to stop.”

      Seth looks down at the hand on his knee, the warmth penetrating the fabric, and he really doesn’t want Dean to pull away.

      “Look Seth….another reason I was so angry was because I was angry with myself.”

      Seth looks up, skeptical. “For what, trusting me?” He mocks himself. “That was _my_ doing, not yours.”

      Dean shakes his head and frowns. “Shut up,” he snaps, and Seth does, his mouth clicking shut, rightfully feeling cowed down. Dean doesn’t share his feelings easily and to just anyone, so to have him explain of his own free will is something he needs to pay attention to and take seriously. “Yeah I was angry that I trusted you and you shattered that trust to a million pieces.” Seth winces a little bit, can’t help not to. “But I was more angry that even after trying to hate you so much and trying not to care about what downward spiral you went into, I did. I cared.” Dean bright eyes meet Seth’s, and he squeezes Seth’s knee. “I cared _so_ _fucking much_.”

      Seth swallows roughly, unable to really keep his eyes locked with Dean’s for more than a few seconds, but also unable to keep his gaze away for just as long. “Would you believe me if I said that I cared too?” He asks, unsure. “I tried to rid myself of what you and Ro were to me. I thought that’s what was holding me back and if I could just get rid of it--”

      “But you couldn’t,” Dean finishes for him, and Seth swallows and nods.

      “What happened with my knee was fucking karma,” he says, laughing without humor. “It’s what I deserved.”

      “You came back,” Dean observes, and Seth nods. “We were together again.”

      A wry smirk finds its way on Seth’s face again, and a huff of laughter comes out of his nose. “Not for long.” He says. The hesitates for a moment before speaking again. If they’re gonna do this, this talking thing, then he needs to let it out. “I was scared that after all that work and all that trouble that it didn’t matter. It felt like it all fell apart with Ro getting sick and you….with your arm,” Seth looks at said arm, and even though it looks stronger than ever, he knows what serious injuries do to you. “It was like we couldn’t be the Shield anymore.”

      “We don’t need to be.”

      “What?”

      “Being the Shield was important, brought us together,” Dean clarifies. “But that was over _five_ years ago. I know you desperately want to go back to what you claim is a better time, but you can’t cling to that.”

      Seth smiles weakly. “But I don’t even know if I’m worth it to you now,” he murmurs under his breath, wanting to be truthful but also kind of desperately not wanting Dean to hear his weakness.

      Dean, for his part, keeps it together. He takes a deep breath, deep enough that it shifts his shoulders up, and lets it go, humming through his nose as he does. He looks at Seth, an uncomplicated sort of emotion in his eyes, like watching Seth is all he’s planning to do for right now. The sharp blues flick over Seth’s face a little bit, and as Seth lets himself be looked at, a little panic starts to rise up in him.

      This is it, he thinks. This is when he’s going to tell me that I’m not worth it. That after this thing with Ziggler and McIntyre they’re done and through and are going to go their own separate ways. He’s just looking at Seth because he’s trying to find the right words to say to let Seth down easy because despite his harsh mouth and harsher fists there’s this thing inside Dean that is intrinsically _good_ and Seth doesn’t deserve to ever be in that space again no matter how much he wishes with all of his being that he could and--

      “Yes.” Dean says.

      Seth blinks. “What?”

      “ _Yes_ ,” says Dean, with a little more intention. Seth blinks more, and Dean just sighs, an amused smile on his own face, enough for his dimples to _just_ peek out from behind his beard. “I’m answering your question,” he clarifies. “From earlier.”

      Then it hits Seth, and it takes him a moment to understand, and a warmth blooms in his chest in a way that he didn’t think he’d feel around Dean ever again. The warmth of the knowledge that yes, this man, this amazing man that’s been through _so damn much_ in his life--some of which was even Seth’s own doing--still deems Seth worthy enough of his affection, of his care. It makes a smile bloom across Seth’s face, and he can’t contain it.

      He reaches for Dean’s face, gently cradling the bearded cheeks in his hands, running his thumbs over the ginger hair, and Dean let’s him, he _lets him_ ! It’s the most intimate the two of them have been in basically four whole years, and Seth’s heart feels like it can’t beat any faster. Dean continues to watch, with that same uncomplicated sort of look, and Seth can’t stand it anymore. He swipes a thumb over Dean’s lips, and they’re soft, and warm. “Yeah?” He asks, clarifies, because he _needs_ to know, _needs_ to know that this is ok, that he’s not misinterpreting what Dean means just because he’s blinded by what he wants.

      Dean’s smile widens, just enough, and he nods. “ _Yes_ ,” he emphasizes once more, and Seth really can’t take it anymore.

      He leans forward, and brings his lips to Dean’s, pressing forward in a chaste, but rather intense kiss. It lasts for only a few seconds, because Seth is smiling so much he can’t even hold it. He pulls back--not too far--and looks Dean in the eyes, and it’s a wonder that he can look without the other’s hair in the way. He loves it instantly, loves that he can see Dean’s bright droopy eyes, doesn’t care about the shorn locks because he can _see_ , and what he does see makes him hopeful. He’s still holding Dean’s cheeks his his hands, and they move slowly to cradle his jaw, still running over the texture of his beard. “Again?” He asks, hopeful.

      Dean’s teeth peek through his smile. “Yeah,” he mutters, like he doesn’t want to be any louder than necessary.

      Seth kisses him right this time, tilting his head and bringing Dean’s forward at an angle, though it doesn’t seem like he has to do a lot of work since Dean leans forward, into Seth’s space, and he feels _huge_. Seth’s eyes flutter closed not of his own volition, and when their slightly open mouths meet in a press of warm and wet, a shiver that he hasn’t felt in _such_ a long time runs all the way down Seth’s back, and settles warm, in his stomach.

      Small wet noises pass between them as their lips pull apart, only to meet again mere seconds later. The kisses are still fairly chaste in retrospect, but to Seth it feels like his blood is slowly starting to boil. Seth breathes through his nose as much as he can despite how it feels like he can’t get enough air, because now that he’s started, he never wants to stop kissing Dean.

      Thankfully, either Dean has the same sentiment or is alright with it, since he continues to kiss Seth, tilting his head to press against him more. He shifts, turning closer into Seth’s space, and as Seth’s hands fall away from Dean’s face, a hand slides carefully up his leg, and it feels like a firebrand as it settles on his upper thigh and squeezes, just enough to elicit a gasp out of him.

      They pull apart, Seth panting like he’s just done an iron man match instead of just kissing. But that’s what Dean does to him. That’s what Dean has always done to him.

      Their eyes meet, and Seth swallows roughly at the heat that’s pooling in those blue depths, the black of his pupils starting to overtake the brightness of his irises. Dean reaches up with his free hand now, the tips of his fingers carefully brushing against Seth’s bearded cheek before reaching to cradle his jaw with a gentle grip.

      With a movement that almost feels like slow motion, Dean leans forward, and just as their lips meet, Seth’s eyes flutter closed once again. Immediately however, this kiss feels different. Dean presses his tongue in Seth’s mouth, and Seth tilts his head in just the right way and they slot together, tongues slipping and sliding together, back and forth from each other’s mouths. Hot and wet and perfect.

      They spend what feels like an eternity yet no time at all like this, trading open mouth kisses like it’s the only thing they can manage to do anymore. They only part for long enough to grasp a few strained inhales of breath, before they meet again and again.

      If Seth were honest he could probably do this forever.

      They move, breaking their connected lips so they can scoot back and fully deposit themselves onto the bed. They maintain eye contact as they move, and as Seth moves back and Dean moves forward, it almost looks just as predatory as his walk on stage was from earlier, and the heat from the gaze Dean’s sending his way pools directly in between Seth’s legs.

      Dean gently leads him down then, lays atop him, and it feels wonderfully the same, but also different. The sheer size of Dean’s shoulders and back as he reaches to grip onto them is new, the scratchiness of Dean’s full beard is too. The fact that in this position Dean somehow feels impossibly bigger than him, makes a powerful amount of heat pool at his groin with embarrassing quickness.

      Kisses continue to pass between them, and Dean shifts, his knee slotting in between Seth’s spread legs, pushing just enough to make a little keen whimper out of his mouth. Their lips separate with a wet little smack, and Seth is a little dizzy as he opens his eyes to meet gazes with the man above him.

      His breath kind of gets taken away at the sight. Dean still looks impossibly _huge_ , the blue of his irises so swallowed up by his pupils, unbidden, and unhidden. Dean shifts, his hands caging Seth’s shoulders, and he presses his knee just a little tighter against Seth’s groin, and Seth breathes out a moan and wiggles into the pressure on his dick.

      Dean huffs out a laugh, and it’s such a nice sound. His smile fond as he gazes down at Seth, and the younger man just wants….he just wants _everything_. He wants to touch, to kiss, to suck to…

      His brain sort of derails as Dean’s eyes trail down his heaving body and lands on his confined dick, which is starting to get a little painful with how much he’s pressing against the tightness of his fly. Dean presses his knee again, rubs a little, and Seth’s eyes widen as he watches Dean subconsciously--or not--lick at his lips.

      It just comes out of his mouth. “Can I suck you?”

      Dean’s head snaps up at the same moment that Seth’s mouth clicks shut. He’s such an idiot, how could he just blurt that out right out of nowhere? Their relationship is still tentative at best and now he’s gone and opened his damn mouth and--

      “Shower first,” Dean says, and it jerks Seth out of his brain.

      “What?”

      Dean shakes his head with an almost wistful smirk. “I said, ‘shower first’,” he replies, enunciating. “You losin’ your hearing or something?”

      “Really?”

      Dean rolls his eyes and reaches up to pat Seth’s cheek. “Got some stuff I’d like to do to you too, and I think we’d both benefit from getting clean,” he says with a wink, before pulling away from Seth, that delicious pressure on his groin falling away.

      It takes Seth about the amount of time for Dean to get off the bed and start to take off his shirt for him to finally comprehend what the other man had said, and once he does, he practically launches himself off the bed too, much to the amusement of Dean, who laughs again.

      Seth watches as Dean’s removes his shirt, swallows roughly, and when Dean glances over with a raised, knowing brow, clears his throat and goes about the task of removing his own clothes.

      Dean removes his clothes as he always has, with reckless abandon and frankly a little worrying lack of shame or embarrassment about his nakidity.

      Seth on the other hand, can’t help a flush of embarrassment as his dick bobs after he pulls his jeans and underwear down, already so hard at the light foreplay and anticipation alone. He doesn’t know what Dean means by, ‘some stuff’, but apparently his dick doesn’t care in the least. Seth swallows--why is his mouth so dry, it’s never this fucking _dry_ \--and steels himself before he looks at Dean.

      God he’s so beautiful. All strong clean, confident lines of muscle that Seth can’t remember ever being so prominent before, and it makes his cock give an embarrassing twitch.

      Dean, on the other hand, isn’t nearly as hard as Seth, which makes the younger man a little nervous. He’s not totally soft either, though, which helps with Seth’s confidence a little. “Eager?” Dean asks, his tone light, but teasing, his eyes directed at Seth’s dick.

      Seth chuckles through the flushing of his cheeks, and in a movement without thought, reaches over to grab Dean’s hand, and pull him towards the bathroom. “Shut up,” he accuses, and Dean just laughs with him.

 

***

      They actually _do_ bathe in the shower, the hotel thankfully having a shower stall big enough that they can both fit in it. They kiss and clean one another in equal measure, and Seth is reminded of all the times they did this way back when, and is a little amazed at how easily it’s all coming back to him. He trails his hands over Dean’s skin, trading kisses with him as he explores the strengthened body. He can’t help put move his hands over his shoulders, his chest, gently brushing against nipples that make a little moan sigh out of Dean’s mouth. He touches the muscle underneath Dean’s armpits, moving upwards to his shoulder blades, and eventually ending up right at his hair. He sweeps his hands over the fuzzy bristles, and he laughs softly as he pulls away. “Easier to shampoo now, I bet,”

      “Yeah well,” Dean half shrugs, running his hands over Seth’s back as well, trailing down just to the start of the swell of Seth’s ass, and it makes Seth’s heartbeat pick up, just slightly.

      Seth runs his hands over it again, sliding so his hands are cupping Dean’s bearded cheeks now. It directs Dean’s gaze back to his, and he says, with all the sincerity he can muster into his face and his voice. “I _like_ it. It looks good.”

      Dean watches, just the smallest hints of a smile on his face, and Seth feels his hands start to trail down, gripping his ass and squeezing. It makes Seth’s breath hitch at the mood suddenly shifts again, and Seth bucks his hips, a shuddering moan tumbling out of his mouth as his dick bumps against Dean’s, which feels _far_ more interested in the proceedings than before.

      Then, Dean pulls one of his cheeks to the side, just enough for the middle finger of his free hand to slowly slide down and swirl, just enough, over Seth’s hole.

      Seth practically falls into Dean’s arms. It’s been so long, it’s been _so fucking long_ . He buries his burning face into Dean’s neck, a warbling little moan escaping his lips right into the skin. He grips Dean’s biceps, trembling and pushing his hips back into the pressure of Dean’s wandering finger, wanting just a little more...just a little more pressure, _please_. But Dean keeps it light, keeps swirling his finger over the furl of muscle with ease, holding onto Seth and keeping him upright, since Seth feels like without Dean his knees would just buckle. “Gonna get you nice and clean down here,” Dean murmurs, like he almost doesn’t know he’s saying it out loud. Or maybe he does, because he tilts, just so he can growl softly in Seth’s ear, “So I can eat you out nice and good, pretty boy.”

      Seth’s practically chokes on a moan and his knees actually buckle then, but Dean keeps him upright, and that makes another little keen eek out of Seth, Dean being so strong that he can keep Seth upright with almost no effort. “Please,” he practically gasps.

      “Please what?” Dean asks, teasing like the shit he is, with another swirl of his finger.

      Seth mouths sloppily at the juncture of Dean’s neck and shoulder, and turns to moan. “Wanna suck you.”

      It’s Dean’s turn to groan then, and he finally pulls his hands away from Seth’s ass, gripping him by his waist. “Whatever you want,” he murmurs, and Seth tries to ignore the way his heart swings at the sentence. Dean probably meant it just in a sexual sense, just in this moment, and Seth kneels carefully down, slightly hiding himself in his curtain of hair so that Dean can’t see his hopeful face. God when did he get so fucking smitten with the man above him? He glances up and swallows roughly.

      Dean’s cock is _definitely_ more interested than it was before.

      Where Seth’s mouth was dry before, it waters now at the sight of Dean’s cock. He swallows, eyeing it twitch and sway just a little bit. He smiles, eyeing the trimmed down ginger curls at the base. He almost makes a joke about it matching the hair on Dean’s head, but refrains, and instead, leans forward to casually lick just under the head.

      Dean groans, and his hands clench and open at his sides, and Seth glances up from under his hair and his lashes. He can’t see much, but Dean’s head is pointed slightly skyward, so Seth licks again, a little broader this time, a little more.  He keeps watching through the half curtain of his hair, finally taking the crown of Dean’s cock into his lips, suckling it gently. His reaches up to run a hand over the hair on Dean’s thigh, moaning slightly as Dean’s hips twitch and send a little more of his cock into Seth’s mouth.

      Seth continues the light sucking, running his tongue over the little slit, down to the frenulum, then back again. If he were more of a mind, he would probably be amazed at Dean’s self control, but now, he’s just focused on the length filling his mouth. He starts to bob a little bit, taking more and more increments of Dean’s cock as he does. Dean’s starting to twitch more now, and while Seth still can’t necessarily see him all that well with the water and his hair in the way, he can certainly _hear_ him. Dean’s starting to get more vocal, rumbling moans and swears in time with Seth’s bobs, his cock twitching against Seth’s tongue. Seth’s own cock rests twitching, so very hard against his leg, but he ignores it, in favor of trying to make Dean louder, pleasing him so well that he can’t help but make noise.

      On one downward slide, he takes Dean particularly deep, and Dean’s cock rubs against the soft flesh of the beginnings of his throat. Seth moans, and Dean swears his loudest yet, and then there are hands suddenly cradling his jaw, gripping. In his surprise, Seth’s eyes open and he swallows, and it just makes another groan leak out of Dean. Seth glances up, and Dean’s head is no longer aimed at the ceiling, but down at him. He’s panting, and Seth doesn’t move, can’t really with how tightly Dean is holding onto his face. “‘S been a while,” Dean explains, and Seth’s cock twitches and he makes a soft noise in his throat at how rough and already wrecked Dean’s voice sounds. “Forgot how good you are at that.”

      Dean’s hands move then, and he gently pushes Seth’s hair out of his face and eyes, and Seth just has to moan again around the intrusion in his mouth at the look on Dean’s face, at the heated look in his eyes. He pulls back after one more swallow, and clears his throat, finally taking a hand away from Dean’s thigh and resting it on his own, so tantalizingly close to his own cock. He doesn’t touch it yet though, despite how much he wants to, because he knows it’ll be better if he waits. He’s sure of it.

      A soft brush of Dean’s thumb under his eye makes a little sound come out of his mouth, and Dean looks so damn fond, looking down at him like this. “Knee ok?”

      The question takes him off guard a little, but then his heart swells a little bit, that Dean would care enough to pay attention and make sure he’s still comfortable. Honestly, he’d forgotten about it until now, and honestly, it doesn’t feel that bad. It’s a little sore, but nothing he can’t handle. He nods, not really wanting to use his voice, for some reason feeling like it might break the mood.

      “Wanna come up?” Dean asks, still gently caressing his face.

      Seth shakes his head, because even though he really likes the idea of Dean wanting to eat him out, it’s been so long, and he really wants to savor it….just a little bit longer.

      “Alright,” Dean says softly, and one of his hands goes to the top of Seth’s head, and the other holds his jaw. Neither of the touches are gripping, demanding, just resting, holding, like Dean wants to touch him, wants to stay more connected while Seth sucks him, and a warm tingly feeling starts to go over Seth’s body and brain. “Let me know when you want to, ok?”

      Seth nods again, still wordless, and leans forward and picks up where he left off, sliding his mouth down Dean’s cock, pressing and slipping his tongue against the vein on the underside, moaning as Dean makes little shallow thrusts against him. They maintain that for a little while, Seth alternating between deeper bobs of his head, then returning to suckle at the head, enjoying the slightly bitter and salty taste of Dean’s precome as it blurts out onto his tongue.

      Seth doesn’t know how much time has passed, his brain and body not really connected or focusing on anything but the full feeling of his jaw stretched over Dean’s hardness. His own cock is leaking too, forgotten in his lap but he doesn’t care, because that’s not what important right now.

      Dean talks again, and Seth almost doesn’t understand with how foggy his brain has become, but it penetrates through his brain, and he moans at it.

      “Clean yourself up nice and pretty for me, Seth.” He had said.

      Seth finally moves his hands--one of which had found it’s way back on Dean’s thigh, not really moving or gripping, just another point of contact where he can drown himself in Dean’s presence--spreading his knees a little and reaching back, so he can allow water to run over his entrance. He moans at the slightly ticklish feeling, and continues to suck and bob, moaning nasally as he presses a middle finger against his hole and swirls. He dips in just a little bit, continuing to swirl and let water slide over him down there. He wants it to be clean, wants Dean to eat him out with reckless abandon and without worry. The thought makes his cock twitch dangerously in his lap. The idea of Dean, with his lovely, dangerous mouth taking Seth apart with his tongue makes him keen, and Dean’s thrusts against his mouth start to get a little more erratic, in congruence with his breathing.

      The grip on his jaw suddenly tightens and Dean backs out of Seth’s mouth with a sharp grunt. Seth gasps at the sudden exit, and he opens his eyes to look up at Dean, panting, open mouthed, hard pressed to stop rubbing against his hole in a way that feels so nice. Dean’s panting too, his cock red and twitching right at Seth’s eye level. He leans forward to lick it, take it back into his mouth again, almost forgetting the grip of his jaw until it tightens again, and he whines a little bit.

      “Jesus,” Dean breathes, and Seth looks up at him, another soft moan coming out of him at how tense Dean looks.

      Seth finds his voice finally. “Why?” He asks, and he doesn’t even clear away how raw his voice is, likes the way that it sounds, reminds him of how it got like that.

      Dean huffs out an almost humorless laugh. “Was gonna come.”

      Seth’s eyes snap to Dean’s still leaking dick, and he subconsciously licks his lips, whining gently at the lost opportunity.

      “Greedy,” Dean admonishes without any real heat, petting at Seth’s face again. It feels nice, and he lets himself rub against the touches, humming a bit. They stay like that for a second, Seth’s brain starting to fuzz over again. “C’mon, get up, wanna eat you out like I promised. ‘Sides, water’s starting to get cold.”

      It’s only when Dean mentions it that Seth notices it, and yeah, the water is significantly cooler than when they first stepped in. It clears his head a little bit, brings him back out of the fog and he shifts, Dean helping him stand up all the way with hands underneath his armpits.

      Dean flicks off the spray behind him, and Seth shivers a little bit when Dean pulls back the shower curtain, his hair dripping down his face and back. Dean reaches for one of the towels provided--always too small for men of their stature, but they get the job done regardless--and starts to run it over Seth’s body. “Knee still ok?” Dean asks, and Seth nods. He then swallows.

      “Yeah,” he says, his voice still rough from the abuse his throat took. He has the decency to flush about it now.

      Dean grabs a second towel and plops it down on Seth’s head, and Seth feels another warmth bloom in his chest at Dean remembering that he likes to use a separate towel for his hair. “Dry off,” Dean says, using a third towel--the last one--over himself. Seth watches, drying his own hair as Dean runs a cursory swipe over his own head. He doesn’t linger there long, running the towel over the rest of his body, hissing a little bit as the towel brushes over his still hard cock.

      Seth moans, remembering now how hard _he_ is and his hips buck a little bit, outside of his own volition. Dean gives him a sly look at the motion, and Seth exhales breathily at the heated gaze.

 

      After they’re relatively dry, they trail back into the bedroom, Seth unabashedly watching Dean’s ass as the taller man walks in front of him. When they reach the bed, Dean pats Seth on the ass, “Go on, get,” he says, and Seth snorts, but does as he’s asked.

      He settles onto the bed, face down, grabbing one of the pillows and tucking it underneath his still damp head. The bed dips, and a light touch to his hip causes him to turn to look, Dean kneeling above him with another pillow in his hand. “Scootch your hips up for a sec.” Seth does, and Dean slides the pillow underneath them, propping is ass up. It spreads his legs a little bit too, and as Dean settles behind him, Seth moans, his head turned to the side and hair pushed out of his face so he can see Dean as much as he possibly can. He grips at the pillow and the sheets beneath him as Dean carefully runs his hands across the skin of his back, moaning softly into it when Dean reaches the globes of his ass and gives a tight squeeze. “Spread your legs a little more for me, Seth.”

      Seth wiggles and breathes out shakily as his cock rubs against the pillow under his hips, and lets out another trembling exhale when Dean shifts, leaning close and pulling Seth’s cheeks apart, exposing him to the air. “God you’re pretty,” Dean breathes, swiping his thumb over the little muscle, making Seth’s breath all the more shaky. “Gonna make you nice and wet,” another touch over his hole, another moan dragged out of him.

      Seth’s not really that verbal when it comes to sex, doesn’t spout a lot of dirty talk like Dean does now, just like he had all those years ago. That doesn’t mean he’s quiet however. He’ll moan and cry out, unable to keep the noises back and frankly not really wanting to. A few words of direction or passion, unfiltered from his brain due to overwhelming pleasure.

      He mewls then, an almost kitten-like sound as he feels the first, almost tentative touch of Dean’s tongue against his hole. He presses back a little, keening in loss when the tongue pulls away, and Dean chuckles against one of the globes of his ass. “Almost forgot how needy you get too,” he mutters, and Seth would answer him, encourage him to stop talking, but Dean does exactly that, swiping his tongue across Seth’s entrance with more force, making him almost wail at how hot and wet and perfect it feels and how much _more_ he needs to feel it.

      Dean alternates between small little licks, directed right at the center of his hole, and large swathes of that big tongue of his, covering him from his taint all the way up to the top of his crack, humming at he does so.

      He’s not too consistent, which moves to drive Seth a little wild, since he can’t expect what Dean’s going to do next. So he just holds onto the pillow under his head, the sheets, wailing and moaning as Dean decides to start peppering sucking kisses right against the center of his hole, making him insane with want.

      Seth can’t say how long it goes on for, the licks and kisses making his brain almost dizzy and fuzzy, just as before in the shower, letting out particularly loud moans when Dean starts getting a little more aggressive, the burn of his beard adding delicious contrast to the soft, intense feelings of his tongue and lips against one of the most sensitive parts of Seth’s anatomy.

      When Dean’s tongue finally presses hard enough, and Seth’s hole is relaxed and pliant enough, Dean’s tongue slips inside him, and Seth sobs out his name. Said man continues to press his tongue inside, but runs a hand up Seth’s back as far as he can reach, a soothing motion to his touch as his mouth takes Seth apart. “Please” he gasps out, not necessarily sure what he’s calling out for, but Dean seems to understand, and continues to eat him out with vigor, pressing his tongue as far it can go, swirling it in almost a corkscrew type motion that makes Seth’s brain short circuit and his mouth let out a wail.

      Finally, Dean pulls away, either to let Seth have a breather, or to breathe himself, and Seth whines so prettily, his hole feeling so warm and wet and loose, wiggling against Dean’s grip to at least _try_ to get some friction against his cock. He clenches, feeling so needy, so empty after Dean’s tongue, and Dean moans behind him, gripping his cheeks tightly, “Do that again,” he mutters, and Seth does, clenching on nothing and moaning, wanting more, please please _please_.

      “Fuck me,” he breathes, almost dreamily, almost begging, wiggling against Dean’s grip.

      He gasps when Dean’s voice is suddenly in his ear. “You want that?”

      He nods, furiously, into the pillow, turning his head and straining for a kiss. He whines when Dean backs away, says, “Please,” even though he’s not sure himself whether he’s answering Dean’s question or pleading for the kiss.

      Dean moves back, pressing his lips against Seth, and Seth hums, his eyes fluttering closed. The other man pulls away after a second, his voice low, almost dangerously hot in his ear. “How do you wanna be fucked?”

      Seth’s whine trembles out of him, and he wiggles as Dean’s hands brush up and down against his back. Several positions come to mind, Dean holding him down in several, but then one pops into his head and suddenly he wants it so bad he can’t even think straight, like all the blood remaining in his head rushes down to his poor, straining cock. “Wanna ride you,” he tells Dean with a rasp of a moan.

      Dean groans directly in his ear, and it makes a reciprocating moan eek out of Seth at the rough sound of want. “You got stuff?” He asks, and it takes Seth a few long seconds to comprehend what he’s asking, then he nods, trying to shake the fog of lust out of his brain so he can answer properly.

      It still takes a while before he can answer. “Yeah, smaller suitcase.” He swallows. “Inside. Mesh pocket.”

      Dean kisses him on the shoulder. “Be right back,” he says, and Seth tries not whine at the loss of warmth from Dean’s body pressed against his.  

      Seth breathes, trying to slow down his panting so he doesn’t actually hyperventilate. He moves, his lower body almost feeling like jelly except for the hard heat of his dick. He leaked against the pillow, enough that a rather large wet spot has formed on it, and he doesn’t have it in him to be that embarrassed about it. If anyone could keep it together that much after being eaten out like that, then more power to them. Pushing his hair out of his face he sits up, glancing over at Dean who’s crouched over his suitcase, rummaging and swearing underneath his breath. “Got so much fucking stuff in here.”

      Seth can’t help but laugh, clearing his throat as he leans against the headboard, holding the pillow he had been laying his head on against his chest. “On the edge, it attached to the suitcase,” he clarifies, and after a few seconds, Dean makes a noise of triumph.

      He returns to the bed, with the half empty bottle of lube and a couple of the condoms Seth keeps in there, and crawls over to Seth to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He holds up the bottle with a quirked brow, a small smile on his face.

      Seth flushes but refuses to look away. “A guy gets lonely sometimes,” he shrugs, like it's nothing, and Dean just kisses him again without a word, longer this time, pressing his tongue into Seth’s mouth. In retrospect he probably should've asked Dean to wash his mouth before kissing him, but he doesn’t taste like anything but Dean, so it’s honestly fine.

      Dean pulls away. “Wanna get yourself prepped, or do you want me to do it?”

      “I can do it,” Seth replies, “Shouldn’t need too much with the thorough job you did back there,” he adds as a joke, and Dean smiles, a little filthy, and it reminds him of times past when they did this, what feels like an eternity ago, and it makes Seth smile.

      They arrange themselves with Dean half propped up against the headboard and Seth straddling his hips. Without words, Dean hands over the lube, and Seth opens it, trailing a considerable amount on his fingers, ignoring the pointed look from Dean. “Been a while,” he explains, and all Dean does is place his hands on Seth’s hips.

      He reaches back, moaning and twitching at the initial coldness of the lube, moaning as he swirls and presses his finger against himself. The thoroughness of Dean’s rimming has left him soft and pliant, and he easily opens up to one finger, sliding all the way down to the knuckle. He continues like that, pumping his finger in and out of himself, his eyes slipping closed as he focuses on stretching himself, the tight grip of Dean’s hands caging his hips a firebrand, encouraging him without words.

      “Goddamn,” Dean breathes as Seth slips a second finger inside himself and pumps them both in, a wavering little moan coming out of him at the sound of Dean’s voice and the feeling. “Look so pretty.”

      Seth’s eyes flutter open and they meet Dean’s. “Shut up,” he says, wishing there was more heat behind it instead of sounding so incredibly desperate.

      He continues to prep himself further, going deeper, splaying his fingers inside to prepare himself for Dean’s cock. Dean’s hands leave him for a moment, and Seth’s eyes open again, unaware as to when he had closed them again. He moans at the sight of Dean carefully rolling a condom down his red flushed cock, groaning at the sensation and gripping the base as he looks at Seth.

      He wants it, he wants it inside him. In this moment, right here with Dean, there isn’t anything he wants more in this world. So he removes his fingers, wiping them on the sheets next to him, uncaring and scoots forwards a little bit. “You good to go?” Dean asks as Seth straddles him, reaching to hang onto Dean’s shoulders as he shifts.

      Seth nods. “Yeah,” he replies.

      With a breath, he lifts, and sinks down on Dean’s steadied cock. He breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth several times as the thick blunt head breaches him, the stretch twinging a bit but also feeling so perfect all at the same time. Dean reaches for his thighs, gripping them and helping steady Seth and keep him present. He heaves out a wavering moan when he’s finally fully seated, Dean’s cock spreading him wide open. He waits, continuing to breathe as he gets used to the sensation, and Dean pets his legs, making his face flush.

      Seth hiccups, can’t help it really it just bubbles out of him, and he raises up halfway, only to slide back down, shuddering out a moan as his hands curl into fists onto Dean’s chest. “Not gonna….last long,” He breathes through a short laugh, unable to believe how fucking good this still feels after all this time. Sure he’s a little rusty, and there’s a little bit of burn, but he breathes through it, and it starts to become this beautiful pressure and pleasure as Dean’s cock slides inside him, pressing and rubbing against nerve endings and making them sing.

      He bounces a little faster, his eyes screwing shut against the pleasure, even though he wants to keep them open so he can stare down at Dean, who looks up at Seth with an intense expression on his face, his mouth open as he pants and gives little thrusts up against Seth on the down stroke. “That’s it, Seth,” he murmurs. “That’s right.”

      Then, on one strong push downward, the angle shifts, and Dean’s cock slides right against and along his prostate, and a shock of pleasure so strong runs through him that a few blurts of precome spurt out of his cock. “ _Dean_!” He gasps, his eyes screwing shut again.

      Sudden movement, and Dean lurches forward, pulling Seth’s legs around his hips so he’s more firmly planted on Dean’s lap, thrusting upwards into Seth with a ragged groan that goes straight to Seth’s dick. Dean wraps his arms around Seth’s back and pulls Seth to him, keeping him upright as he continues to bounce.

      He clings to Dean then, his nose buried in that shortly cropped hair, his arms wrapped around the back of Dean’s head as continuous moans and wails sail out of him, becoming one unending stream of noise. In this position he can’t move very much, but it doesn’t really matter to him, he doesn’t really need it. What he needs is to cling to Dean, have as much of his body touching Dean’s as possible. And Dean, wonderful, glorious, perfect Dean lets him, thrusts into him and runs his hands all over Seth’s skin, pressing kisses and laving his tongue against Seth’s collarbone and neck, whispering filthy oaths and promises in Seth’s ears. He’s close, he’s so fucking close all of a sudden that it punches the breath out of him, and his moans start to accelerate, becoming embarrassingly high pitched but in the moment he doesn’t fucking care because he’s right _there_.

      Then a touch to his cock, one of Dean’s fists wrapped around him, stroking him, and Dean’s voice, gravel in his ear. “Come on Seth, come for me. Come for me pretty boy.”

      Seth’s gone. All of the waiting, all of the stolen glances and the heated looks and foreplay all culminate to one climax that Seth is certain short circuits his brain. At first it’s a drumming beat of, ‘Yes, God, yes,’ then a stronger wave, crashing into him hard enough to actually make tears spill out of his eyes.

      He vaguely recognizes Dean panting and swearing in his ear, and he just clutches the man tighter to him, never wanting to leave, never wanting to not have this again. His heart swells and more tears leak out of his eyes and he feels so fucking stupid but at the same time so fucking _right_.

      Finally, when Seth’s breathing gets a little less harsh, and he’s not squeezing Dean to him quite so hard, he sags, a mixture of relief and exhaustion washing over him in equal measure. He pulls back, looks down at Dean just as Dean looks up at him, and there’s such strong emotion in those bright blue eyes, that Seth just has to kiss him again. So he does.

      When they pull apart, Dean idly runs his hands up and down Seth’s back, not moving much other than that, like he’s just content to be sitting here, with Seth astride his lap. Little tufts of his hair are sticking straight up, and Seth smiles, running a hand over the locks and smoothing them down. He leans forward without thought and kisses Dean right on the center of his forehead. “Thank you,” he says, finally breaking the silence of their afterglow.

      Dean huffs out a chuckle, his hands resting on Seth’s hips. “Thank me?” He asks, his voice gruff and almost rocky. “‘Bout made me lose my damn mind.”

      Seth smiles. “Really?” He teases, reaching to brush his own sweaty hair out of his face. With a little movement, he pulls himself off of Dean’s softening cock, making a face at the still slick but empty feeling.

      Dean sigh/laughs. “Yeah really.” With a quick movement, he half hoists Seth off of him, and Seth follows the motion, landing softly on the bed next to him. He instantly reaches to touch Dean’s arm, not wanting the physical connection between them to break, just yet.

      Reaching for the condom, Dean swings his legs around and stands up from the bed. He turns and leans over to quickly kiss Seth on the top of his head. “Be right back,” he promises, trailing quickly into the bathroom.

      While he’s gone, Seth moves the not soiled pillows so they’re sitting correctly at the head of the bed, and runs his hands over his face, sighing deeply into them and trying to bring himself back to the present. His ass clenches, and he flushes at the still slick and empty feeling. He reaches back, pressing a gentle finger against his hole, and he’s a little amazed at how easily it presses in, slippery with the amount of lube they used. He squirms a little, taking his finger away and wiping it on the edge of the bed out of the way. Now that he’s coming back to himself, he makes a face at how sticky and sweaty he feels. While he’s contemplating another shower, Dean returns from the bathroom, a wet washcloth in his hand. Without words, he approaches the bed and crawls onto it, reaching over and starting to wipe Seth off. “I can do it,” Seth protests weakly, but doesn’t reach to take the washcloth, flushing at Dean’s thoughtfulness.

      “Least I can do,” Dean grunts. So Seth lets him clean him up. With quick swipes he cleans up the come of Seth’s abs, and dick, Seth making a soft noise of the course towel on his oversensitive cock. Dean reaches back then, swiping over Seth’s hole, another little keen slipping out of Seth’s lips at the feeling.

      Once done, Dean tosses the towel away without care, and lays back on the bed, his hands resting behind his head as he heaves a great sigh, his eyes slipping closed.

      “Stay?” Seth asks suddenly, a strange panic suffusing him at the idea of Dean just up and leaving now.

      One of Dean’s eyes peeks open. “Was planning on it.”

      The panic subsides, just a little bit, in Seth’s chest, and he nods. “Ok.”

      Dean’s eye closes again, and Seth watches him for a few minutes, his eyes scanning over the casual lines of Dean’s naked form.

      The short haired man reaches suddenly, his hand landing on Seth’s neck. “C’mere,” he murmurs, one eye opening again as he pulls Seth down to him, kissing him on his forehead before pulling him down to his chest.

      Seth goes easily, allowing himself to be arranged against Dean’s body.

      They sit there for a few minutes, and Seth feels himself relax the longer he lays there. Then Dean gently places a hand on his head and starts petting, running his fingers through Seth's hair. Seth sighs, snuggling up further into Dean’s chest, his eyes slipping closed.

      A thought, unbidden, runs through his mind just as he falls into sleep.

_This is where he belongs._

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how everyone else thinks of Dean's hair but like I think it still looks good and like I need to talk to someone about that boy's shoulder to waist ratio and that ring gear and that just----EVERYTHING? Moral is, I'm too gay and Dean ruined everything.
> 
> Also I wanted to write this all out before Summer Slam and the potential of Dean turning heel makes all the nice, happier shippy feelings between him and Seth go away.


End file.
